


The Last Straw

by Titti



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-10
Updated: 2005-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-15 21:52:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titti/pseuds/Titti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chase won't leave regardless of the humiliation</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Straw

**Author's Note:**

> Set around 'Kids'.

Chase had expected to be fired before Vogler had even reached the parking lot, but it hadn't happened. Instead, House had opened some bottle and they had celebrated, and things seemed normal again. He should have known better.

It started subtly: an extra blood work, a request to interview the patient twice, other little things that Chase had dismissed. With Cameron gone, it was normal that they would have more work, he told himself. He just needed to keep quiet and stay on House's good side, until he hired someone else. Then, everything would be perfect again.

But House didn't hire anyone. Instead he'd gone out of the way not to interview anyone. Yet, Chase refused to say anything, he didn't point out like he was doing most of the night shifts, or how Foreman got to do all the 'cool' procedures, but he bid his time, hoping for things to improve.

Then, the meningitis crises arrived and with it: Mary. As much as Chase hated seeing the little girl sick, it was better than measuring temperature and signing slips. Not in a million years, he would have expected House to use the case as a tool for revenge.

"I'll get on her blood work," Chase said as he mentally went through all the tests they were going to need.

"No, you won't. You, Sir, will research all the causes and universes of neck pains." House was looking at him, challenge clear in his voice, and Chase couldn't help but take the bait.

"That list is like... 2 mile long," Chase answered, just short of whining.

"Start with the letter 'A'," House said in his most neutral voice.

Chase stared for a moment, weighing his option. He really wanted to tell House off, but he'd lost that right when he sided with the losing side. He took a deep breath, and barely nodded as he walked toward the office and his laptop.

The work was tedious, but he didn't really mind once he started, or he wouldn't have minded if House hadn't shown up an hour later, with his red mug filled with coffee. "What letter are you up to?"

Chase bit his lip. It really wouldn't do to tell House to sod off. "A," he answered curtly.

"Torture combing through all that stuff, ain't it? Real dull, awful," House said before taking a sip of his coffee.

'Don't you have something to do? Like visiting the hundreds of patients downstairs' was the first thing Chase thought, with a lot more cursing right after, but instead he barely shrugged. "It's no problem."

"Oh thank goodness, a lot of people would resent having to do this," House said sarcastically.

It was a very good thing that House couldn't read minds because the words going through Chase's mind would have made a sailor blush. Fortunately, House disappeared after that, and he could go back to his list.

* * *

Chase focused on the pictures on his laptop, trying to see any tears in Mary's stomach, and partially listening to House's rambling, because one never knew when the man would say something important.

Without thinking, he reached out for the strawberry liquorice, only to watch House pull it back. Chase almost mentioned how very kindergarten of him, when the question came.

"How come *you* did the endoscopy?"

"He asked for help." He was also more qualified, had done more of them, and yes, he would have used any excuse to stop looking at a computer screen for a while.

To his credit, Foreman tried to help. "Her blood pressure was very high-"

"Foreman is not your boss. When I tell you to do something..."

God, that hurt, being reprimanded like a little boy stung in ways that House couldn't understand. Or maybe he did, and was doing it on purpose. But then, House pointed out to the screen and the 'gianormous' laceration in the right side of Mary's intestine, and Chase had something else to concentrate on, something that didn't require him to think why he was still sitting here, listening to the petty comments of a person he respected, a person he had liked until not to long ago.

And when Cuddy showed up, and House turned to him, and said, 'Dr. Chase, I told you to tell us when our hour was up', Chase couldn't help but smile, thinking of times when things were much simpler at the hospital, before he had made his real mistake, not Vogler, although that was pretty stupid. No, he had made his mistake before that.

* * *

The rest of the day was an accumulation of humiliations. Not so much what House asked, but how he asked, or more accurately how he ordered them. Chase would have been more than happy to surrender his free time if it meant helping Mary, but House never asked, always mocked.

Yes, he'd been angry when Foreman got to do the trans-cranial ultrasound after he had suggested it, but he was more pissed off at that little remark about his professor and naughty touching.

Even the fact that House was listening, and taking his suggestion of poison seriously was not enough to forgive that remark that had cut in ways that Foreman couldn't understand.

After the ultrasound, Foreman came to the office, and put a hand on Chase's shoulder. "It worked. There is bleeding."

Chase nodded. "We still don't know what's causing it."

Foreman shrugged. "We'll do the surgery, and stop the bleeding, and then when she's okay, we'll go back to diagnosis."

"Right, I'm up to 'Qs'," Chase said sarcastically.

Foreman smiled. "Don't let it bother you. It's the way he is, and you know it. He'll find someone else to bother soon enough."

Chase turned and leaned against his chair. "But you agree with him. I shouldn't be here. He should have fired me long ago."

Foreman took a deep breath. "I...yeah, I agree. You don't care about the patients. You take everything for granted, and you did rat him out."

Chase shook his head, and turned back to the computer. "You have no idea what's going on, Foreman."

"Then you can tell me," Foreman rebutted, his voice hard.

"Ask House. If you're lucky, he'll tell you the truth...but I wouldn't hold my breath," Chase murmured.

"You know what? I don't have time for your games. You and House can keep playing. I need to scrub for Mary's operation."

Chase watched as Foreman moved to leave the room. "Go have fun," he murmured under his breath as he started with the 'Rs'.

* * *

Making the right diagnosis was supposed to be the happy conclusion to an unfortunate event, but this time things were different. A twelve years old having an abortion was never a happy thing.

"She's going to be fine," Chase said with a smile, trying to show a sense of hope that he didn't feel.

"I know...." House looked at Mary, smiling, and he sounded like he believed it, and maybe it was a sign, maybe things would be fine.

Maybe.

The next morning, Chase arrived to find Foreman and Cameron sitting around the desk. Both were wearing their lab coats. "Welcome back," he said surprised.

"Thanks," Cameron answered with a grin.

"So what did you have to do to get your job back?" Foreman asked as he sipped his coffee.

"It's what he had to do." Cameron smiled at them. "He's going out with me on Friday."

The statement was like a punch in the stomach. Chase had put up with House and his quirks, but this changed everything. Chase took a deep breath, trying to steady his hand as he poured the coffee in a mug. "You're going out? On a date?" he repeated dumbly.

"Yes," she answered, grinning. "Only one, but now he can't hide behind friendly outings."

Chase snorted. "I'm sure he can find a way. This is House we're talking about."

"And what exactly are we saying?" House asked, as he walked into the office.

"What a joy you are to work with," Chase answered, barely managing not to roll his eyes.

"I'm sure you loved the research. Maybe you should do it more often," House replied with a smirk.

Chase ignored the jab, instead he walked to House and handed him the mug. "Maybe Cameron should do it, because I'm leaving."

House raised his eyebrow. "Throwing a temper tantrum now?"

"No, but I realised that I made a huge mistake. I thought you were someone else." He turned to his colleagues. "Good luck. House," he said with a brief nod, and then walked to the locker room. He collected his things and stuffed them in his backpack.

Fuck House, Cameron, the hospital, the patients, and everything else. He had put up with enough shite for close to two years, and enough was enough. Cameron and Foreman could have their turn now, because he was done.

* * *

3 Months Later

Chase walked through the conference hall with a glass in his hand. If anyone had paid attention, he would have noticed that Chase wasn't really drinking, but the doctors mingling around didn't really pay attention.

He felt someone get behind him. A hand with a glass sneaked past him. "Try this."

The man was so close that Chase could feel the warm breath on his neck; the voice was so unmistakable that Chase smiled. "Dr. House." He took the glass, bringing it to his nose.

"It's only coke," House said.

Chase turned, and faced the other man. "What are you doing here? I didn't think conferences were your thing, especially conferences with a bunch of rheumatologists."

"And I didn't know you changed specialization," House answered.

"You know why I'm here." Chase had no doubt that House knew about his father's death. House probably knew about the posthumous award that NYU had awarded his father, which was also the only reason why Chase had shown up.

House became serious. "I'm sorry."

"No need to, he didn't disappoint me in the end. He was selfish until his death." Chase saw a waiter and put the two glasses, still untouched, on the tray. "You know why I'm here. Why are you here?"

"Good food, free drinks. Why spend the day with sick people when I can stay here?"

Chase sighed. "You know what? Foreman once told me that he didn't have time for our games, and I don't have time for yours. I would say that it was nice seeing you..."

House grabbed Chase's arm. "I came to speak with you. I know you haven't accepted any new positions."

Chase looked down at House's hand, before pushing it away. "I haven't looked for any new positions," he pointed out. "I've been in Australia for almost two months."

"Whatever...you still don't have a job. I want you to come back."

Chase ran his fingers through his hair. "Thank you, but I don't think I will. I've done my time in hell. I shan't do it again."

"What is this? Some renewed Catholic affinity. C'mon, it wasn't so bad."

Chase sniggered. "We must have experienced different things."

"Just tell me what you want, and we can skip all these games," House said.

"Let me see." Chase pretended to think, fingers rubbing his chin. "A date...oh no, someone did that already."

"So this is what's all about? You were jealous of Cameron." House rolled his eyes.

Chase stepped closer, hissing as he spoke. "This is about you claiming not to care about what people think, and yet keeping our relationship secret. It's about you telling me that we should split up because you were my boss. It's about you not having a problem telling people that you were taking your employee on a date, when it was a she. It's about me putting up with crap, hoping that you could respect me again for going to Vogler, because yes, I admit it was damn petty to go to him because you'd broken up with me, but along the way, I realised that I didn't respect you anymore. You're nothing but a scared man, who refuses to accept that he's bi, and who needs to take his frustration out on others. I'm sorry, Greg, but I refuse to return to that."

"No, I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't..."

"Which part you shouldn't?" Chase shook his head. "You needn't answer that. In fact, I'd rather you not answer, because I can't...I don't have the energy."

"Cameron is dating a surgical fellow," House blurted out.

"And you're lonely? Have you spoken to Foreman? Maybe he's interested. If not, there is always Wilson. He'd do anything to make you happy," Chase answered.

"Wow, I think I liked you better when you didn't complain." House looked at his former lover, and again he reached out, his fingers closing around Chase's arm. "I'm not lonely, but I want you back at the hospital. We've had two intensivists in three months. I need a good doctor, someone who can do the procedures, think on his feet, work under stress, and-"

"And be masochist enough to put up with you," Chase finished.

"Yes, that too, because I'm not about to change, but...." His hand slid down, and he rubbed Chase's hand with his thumb, pleased when Chase didn't move away. "Sometimes not caring isn't easier, it's just numbing. Trust me; I know."

"There was a time that I would have trusted you in a heartbeat."

"Give me time, and maybe you will again." House released his hold of Chase's hand, and stared at Chase. "I knew your father was sick."

Chase smiled sadly. "I thought so. I went through his medical records, including the ones from Wilson."

"Wilson didn't tell me. I guessed, and I was going to tell you, but then... you gave me that speech about not caring, and I thought it was better for you not to know."

"My father agreed with you. You were both wrong."

"I'm hoping that I have a chance to make it up to you," House said earnestly.

"Good lord, Greg, what did you do? Rehearse these lines? Picked up from your soaps...." Chase looked at House, and his eyes went wide. "Oh my god, you did, didn't you?"

House grinned unrepentantly. "I can come up with very witty lines on my own, thank you very much, but you might not like them as much," he added in a whisper, taking the opportunity to lean closer. "C'mon, just say yes. You don't really want to see me begging."

Chase grinned. "That might be worth more than a date."

"All right, look, you get your job back, no lousy assignments... well, no more lousy assignments than the others get, we'll consider this unpaid leave, and if you really hate it, you can quit again, and I'll give you a letter of recommendation."

Chase crossed his arms in front of him. "I want the letter undated before I start working. I want *you* to write it, and not Cameron. I want you to stop any jokes about me and guys, and if you don't, I swear I'll deck you and tell everyone that you aren't too particular about the gender of the person sucking your prick. Deal?"

"That depends. Are you going to be sucking my dick?"

Chase rolled his eyes. "Not any time soon."

"So we're not eliminating that possibility all together?" House asked seriously.

Chase laughed. "See, this is proof that I'm a true masochist. Not only I'm considering coming back to work with you, but I'm also not closing the door on whatever else might happen."

"Masochist...damn, I'll have to remember next time I need to feel another fellowship position."

"It should be the first thing you list," Chase answered.

"I'll keep that in mind." House shifted the cane in his hand, but didn't move. "Would you like to leave this place? We could go somewhere...."

"As tempting as that is, especially leaving this place... I'll see you tomorrow, at the hospital."

House nodded. "Don't be late."

"I never am," Chase answered with a smile. He watched House go, and he rubbed his forehead. Bad lines from a stupid soap, and he was back to being House's bitch. Masochist didn't even begin to describe him.


End file.
